Since First I Saw Your Face
by LibbyAnn13
Summary: PreRent then PostRent Roger doesn’t remember meeting Mark. RATING RAISED FOR CHAPTER 2
1. Chapter 1

Title: Since First I Saw Your Face (1/2)

Author:CentralsPrincess15 AKA Libby

Feedback: would be kind…and rewarded with cookies…

Pairing: lemme see… Roger/April; Mark/Maureen; and Roger/Mimi are all mentioned. Roger/Mark is what it will be in the end.

Word Count: 767

Rating: PG

Genre: romance

Summary: Pre-Rent then Post-Rent Roger doesn't remember meeting Mark.

Notes: I've noticed a pattern. Stories only come to me just before I fall asleep…it's anoying lemme tell you

Warnings: None for this chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own RENT or any of its characters; I just like to play with them! _Since First I Saw Your Face_ is the name of a song written by Thomas Ford

It was a typical Saturday night. Only it wasn't. April decided she needed to spend more time with Maureen, have a girls night out. So the boys were stuck in the loft alone. It wasn't so bad. Conversation punctuated with Roger slinking into his room for another hit, or the winding of Marks camera. They didn't really know each other well at this point. Mark had only moved into the loft about 2 months ago. Roger remembered that day well. Remembered the feeling of recognition when Benny introduced Mark. Roger never brought it up though, and Mark never said anything about it either. Until that typical Saturday night that was anything but…

"When did we first meet?"

All night that question had burned in Roger's mind. Hell, if he was honest with himself it's been on the tip of his tongue for the past month but he's never had the guts to say it. Yet this night was different. Alcohol and smack was involved lowering his inhabitions and rising his curiosity.

"What do you mean Roger? I moved in 2 months ago." A look of concern and something else flashed on Marks face. Fear maybe? Roger shook his head.

"No Mark, I mean…yea you moved in 2 months ago but we met before that. I know we did. I just can't remember when."

Mark stood abruptly, sadness now shown plainly on his face. "Just as well…" he whispered and walked into his room slamming the door.

Just then the girls came home and all thoughts of Mark flew out of Roger's head.

It wasn't until years later that Roger pondered the mystery of their meeting. It was bugging him more and more. Flashes of a hot smoky club and a blonde man bobbing to his music. The thoughts came after Mimi left him for good. She reconciled with her mother and, although she still loved him, and he her, she left to spend the rest of her days with the family she missed so much time with. He was sad, yea, depressed even. But without Mimi his thoughts drifted to Mark, safe, stable Mark who would never leave him even if Roger begged him to go. Those thoughts led to the realization that Roger felt more for Mark than simple friendship. Even brotherly love wouldn't cover his feelings.

It was a Saturday night again, and they were alone. Maureen and Joanne had a special banquet to attend in Joanne's honor. She had made Partner. They invited the boys but they politely declined. It wasn't their scene. Collins was out with a few friends from Life Support. He was slowly getting weaker but holding on. Which left the boys to where they were now.

Conversation was easier than years ago. There was no breaks for Roger to go get high and Mark had left his camera in his room. There was only Mark, Roger, and the small supply of alcohol that Collins left for them. Once again the question burned in Roger's brain. There was something he was missing, something important. He needed to know.

Taking a deep breath Roger braced himself for the conversation that ended badly years ago. "Mark, how did we meet?"

Roger saw Mark tense and slowly put down his beer bottle down. "Do you really wanna know?"

Roger simply nodded. At this Mark sighed got up, and began walking to his room. Roger began to protest but Mark waved him off and disappeared into his room. A few minutes later he returned carrying his projector in one hand, already loaded with a film, and his camera in the other. Silently he hooked the projector up and pointed it to face the white sheet that he kept on the wall. Before flicking the switch he turned to Roger.

"This was taken about a week before I moved into the loft. My parents thought I was coming to New York for vacation so they got me a room at a hotel for two weeks. Wednesday of the first week was when I saw your band play for the first time. I loved it. Your music was…well, it's on the film. Anyway, I came back every night after that, but this was the first time I brought my camera."

Without turning on the projector he went to the door and grabbed his coat and messenger bag. Roger looked at him inquisitively.

"You're not going to watch it?" Mark shook his head.

"I've seen it. I've lived it._I_ remember it." With that Mark flipped the switch and walked out the loft shutting the door silently behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Since First I Saw Your Face (2/3)

Author: CentralsPrincess15 AKA Libby

Feedback: would be kind…and rewarded with cookies…

Pairing: Roger/Mark

Word Count: 1,823

Rating: NC-17 BOY!SEX ON FILM!

Genre: romance?

Summary: Pre-Rent then Post-Rent Roger doesn't remember meeting Mark.

Notes: I realize that Mark's camera probably doesn't have sound. But I'm taking artistic license here and in my story it does. My lord, writing Roger watchin himself on tape with Mark doing naughty things is kind of hard to write…

Warnings: boy!sex on film

Disclaimer: I do not own RENT or any of its characters; I just like to play with them! i Since First I Saw Your Face /i is the name of a song written by Thomas Ford

The first few seconds of film are blank. Then all of a sudden Mark's face comes into view. He's much younger, Roger can tell even without knowing that this was made years ago. It's in his eyes. They hold so much wonder, and awe. Roger's sure it's for the city.

"July 28, 4:13 p.m. Eastern Standard Time. I've been in the city for a week an a half and this is the first time I've turned on my camera. It's odd, I know, but I figured that since I'm staying I can take the 2 weeks my parents think I'm staying here for vacation, as actual vacation. The room they rented for me is only good until Sunday so maybe tomorrow I'll try to find Benny and take him up on his offer. The reason I've turned my dear friend on before it's time is because of a person. A singer, well Rock Star. I've been going to his shows for the past three days and I need to get him on film. I'm not sure how much longer he'll be performing and I need something to remember him by. He's so…he's got this power that radiates off of him when he's on stage. Maybe it radiates off of him all the time only I've been too scared to approach him. "

The Mark on the film looks down and Roger's sure he can see a blush on his cheeks. Mark blushing over him? He stares at the screen as the younger Mark scoffs, shakes his head and gets up moving toward the camera. Before it shuts off he hears him say quietly,

"Like I have a chance."

Blank screen once again before a packed club comes into view. Roger recognizes it as CBGB's, one of the few places that gave his band gigs in the old days, not that he remembers much of them other than shooting up in the back room that the owner's son (an old school friend of Roger's, hence the gigs) kept for Roger's personal use.

Roger sees himself on stage. He doesn't remember that boy. Yes, he was nearly 22 at the time but he was still a boy. It wasn't until Mark became a large part of his life that he changed into a man. The boy onstage was smiling, always smiling and winking at the girls dancing in skimpy outfits all around the room. Then Roger was shocked when he found the him from the past staring directly into the camera, no past the camera. The boy's smile became warmer, more meaningful as he gave the cameraman not only a wink, but a nod as well before turning back to the screaming girls.

About a half an hour more of his own face, his own voice. Just when he was tempted to figure out how to fast forward the machine, nothingness once again filled the sheet. The his own face, once again came into view.

"…on?" He was pointing to the camera.

"It is now." Mark was no where to be seen, probably behind the camera like always.

His own voice once again filled his ears, "Hey, the owner keeps a small room in the back for me. Wanna head there and get away from all the noise?"

Roger sat straight up. Did he just hit on Mark? God he would give up anything just to remember this night.

Mark must have nodded because Roger downed his beer and stood walking toward the back of the club. Vaguely, Roger thinks he hears a whispered "Oh My God" from the filmmaker who is still out of frame but he can't be sure.

The room is sparse, but comfortable. There's a table and a few chairs and on the other wall is a large comfortable looking couch. On screen Roger plops down on the couch motioning to the cameraman to sit next to him. As the camera got closer Roger stood and took it from Mark.

"Let's put this somewhere so we can talk face to face." Roger could no longer see his own face but he could see Marks. He was blushing again, whether it was from something Roger did or what he said didn't matter.

The camera jerked a bit as it was set down with a perfect view of the couch. Close enough to capture everything they said, and far enough to be forgotten. On screen Roger took Marks hand and led him to the couch.

Another hour of conversation that Roger can't remember. They talked about everything. Roger talked about his roommates, excluding names for some reason. Mark talked about leaving college to come here and getting his parents to pay for the first few weeks here. They talked and acted like old friends that haven't seen each other in ages. That was before on screen Roger said,

"I've seen you here the past few days, I know the food isn't good so what is it that keeps you coming back?"

The smile on his face said he knew exactly why. Roger's jaw dropped. There it was again. He had hit on Mark. He always thought he was inconspicuous about his feelings but that was when they were friends, roommates. This Mark was just some guy he assumed to be a groupie, some guy he could have his way with.

Mark was blushing again. Roger never saw Mark blush so much, even when he was going out with Maureen. A smile crossed Mark's face, sly, knowing, if not a little nervous.

"I like the entertainment."

On screen Roger laughed, "I bet you do."

Mark blushed and looked straight at the camera, "It's still running, I'm going to shut it off..."

He stood and as he walked past Roger grabbed his wrist and pulled him into his lap.

"Leave it on." His voice was husky, deep, and full of need.

"But the battery..."

Roger's lips were on Marks neck placing opened mouthed kisses right below his ear.

"Leave it on."

They stared into each others eyes before they came together in a searing kiss. Roger put his head in his hands. God, he wished more than anything to be able to remember this, to remember the feel of Mark's lips on his, Mark's body on top of his.

A groan caught his attention and he looked up. It was him, the him on the screen, his shirt was gone and Marks head was in the middle of his chest. He could only guess what Mark was doing. The camera was positioned in such a way that it pointed directly to Roger, obscuring Mark's ministrations by his own head.

Another groan, then a moan and Marks name was filling the loft. Mark's head was at his stomach and from the way Roger was moving, his hands were probably on his zipper.

Roger closed his eyes and hung his head. This was what happened. This was why Mark got angry at him for not remembering. This was what he missed out on because of drugs.

Another moan and Roger's head sprang up. This was not one of his. Mark was sprawled out on the couch, Roger on top of him. This time Roger could watch himself kissing, licking, and biting Mark's pale skin. He moaned, not sure how much of this he could take.

Mark's shirt was gone, soon his pants followed. The little sounds he made drove both Roger's wild it would seem as the one on film smirked at him, then pulled his boxers down and took him in his mouth and the other unzipped his pants and wrapped his hand around himself tightly.

Mark begged and pleaded, whimpered bucked, and Roger knew he was close. On screen Roger seemed to know it to as he pulled himself up and lay on top of Mark. Whispered words that weren't picked up by the camera, nods that were barely perceptible, and then the one thing that shattered him beyond belief. Marks voice came out loud and clear,

"Fuck me Roger, please."

Roger came hard in his hand moaning Marks name and knowing he still had a ways to go in the film. Taking off his shirt he cleaned himself off never once taking his eyes off the film.

Roger kissed Mark gently, almost lovingly as he slowly slipped one finger, then two into him. Mark moaned, not in pleasure at first, but in pain. More whispered words, feather light kisses, and one more finger and soon Mark was moving with him, against them and moaning in pleasure. With one more kiss Roger pushed himself off Mark and positioned himself at his entrance.

"You sure Marky?" his words were soft, concerned and Roger was sure he never asked one of his other groupies that question.

Mark simply nodded and whimpered a soft "please" before slowly Roger entered him inch by inch. Soon he was buried to the hilt and Mark was whimpering in pain. Holding steady, Roger leaned down and kissed his forehead, cheek, chin, and lips lightly. Moaning Mark bucked up underneath him to tell him he was ready, he was fine.

Roger cried when the two boys on screen came together. He cried for everything he could have had, everything he lost, and what he put poor Mark through. The battery died soon after and the screen was blank once more.

A few seconds later Marks face once again came onto the screen, this time pale and resentful, scowling.

"July 29, 9:00p.m. Eastern Standard Time. I'm such a fucking idiot. The man I idolized, adored is a fucking heroin addict. I fucked him last night as the footage on this reel shows, and tomorrow I have an appointment at a clinic to get tested for HIV because I was stupid, and lustful and we didn't use a condom."

A tear fell down the filmmaker's cheek and that caused Roger to break into more sobs.

"The worst thing about all this is, it was the best night of my life. Even though he left right after to get high, even though I might die I got what I wanted didn't I? And if I ever see him again, I know I'd fall for him in a heartbeat. Because last night I saw inside him, last night I saw what a person he could be, and if we ever become friends, I will help him be that person…even if it's not with me."

White screen once more only this time there was nothing after. Roger sat for a good ten minutes just staring at the blank screen. He knew what he had to do. Jumping up he flicked off the projector and ran to his room. Putting on a clean shirt and pair of pants he picked up his jacket and ran to the door of the loft.

He threw it open to find Mark sitting on the top step, head in his hands, shoulders shaking.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Since First I Saw Your Face (3/3)

Author:CentralsPrincess15 AKA Libby

Feedback: would be kind…and rewarded with cookies…

Pairing: Roger/Mark

Word Count: 1,897

Rating: R, for language

Genre: romance?

Summary: Pre-Rent then Post-Rent Roger doesn't remember meeting Mark.

Notes: Dialogue heavy, personally I don't find myself all that good at dialogue. So beware. Well this is the last chapter. I had fun writing it. What a story this turned out to be. Originally it was going to be a one-shot smutfic, then turned into a two chapter smutfic…and now it's got romance and everything. Thanks for all the reviews!

Warnings: Dirty mouths…

Disclaimer: I do not own RENT or any of its characters; I just like to play with them! _Since First I Saw Your Face_ is the name of a song written by Thomas Ford

Last time on Since First I Saw Your Face:

_Jumping up he flicked off the projector and ran to his room. Putting on a clean shirt and pair of pants he picked up his jacket and ran to the door of the loft._

_He threw it open to find Mark sitting on the top step, head in his hands, shoulders shaking_

Slowly, Roger moved to sit next to him. They sat in silence for a few moments, Roger staring at the floor, Mark's shoulders still shaking, before Roger placed his hand on Mark's back. He tensed and moved away just enough for Roger to get the idea. Roger scooted away as well until they both we against the railings. The silence overwhelmed Roger but he didn't know what to say.

"Don't worry Rog," Marks voice broke the silence so unexpectedly that Roger jumped, "you don't have to say anything. I know that I was just a groupie to you, that it didn't…"

Roger cut him off sharply, "No!"

Mark stood quickly. His face was red, and through the bloodshot eyes and tear tracks Roger could see anger.

"Don't tell me I'm wrong Roger. I know it. You met me that night; you even said you saw me at other shows, so you figured that I was just a groupie that wanted a quick fuck. Then you didn't even have the decency to remember it. You broke my heart Roger! I don't know what it is about you, but I fell for you the first moment I saw you onstage. I've never fallen for someone that fast. I loved you, and I still do."

Roger felt horrible. When he started shooting up he remembered thinking that the only person it would hurt was himself. He was wrong. A sudden thought came to him and his eyes filled up with tears. His head dropped in his hands and he began to cry.

"Are you positive?" barely intelligible, muffled by his hands and his tears.

"What? I can't believe…"

Roger stood this time and grabbed Marks wrist. He walked back into the Loft pulling Mark behind him. He slammed the door shut with a resounding bang and whirled around to face Mark.

"Are you positive?" He said it slower this time, beginning to get angry. Not at Mark, but himself. He didn't know what he would do if Mark was positive because of him.

Mark stared for a moment before shouting at Roger. "Is that all you care about! Make sure you didn't get me sick so your fucking conscience can be clear?" He took a deep breath and continued, calmer, "I've let you in more than anyone else in my entire life. I've let you see things and know things I've kept inside for years. And all you're worried about is yourself."

Roger shook his head and stared at the floor. That wasn't true. What he was worried about was Mark.

"Please Mark; tell me you're not positive. Tell me that I won't lose you because of a stupid mis-"

He never got to finish what he said as Mark grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him into the loft door. Tears streaming down his cheeks Mark held a hand over Rogers mouth,

"Don't say it was a mistake. I don't care if you never want to talk about it again, never want to think about it again. Just please Roger, don't call it a mistake. I…I wouldn't… i couldn't /i …handle it."

Roger shook his head. That wasn't what he meant at all. Gently he grabbed Mark's wrist and pulled his hand away. Still holding onto his wrist, Roger spoke,

"That's not what I meant at all Marky. The mistake wasn't you. It was the fact that I got so caught up in you that I forgot protection. Of all the times I can remember bringing groupies into that room, I could pull myself away long enough to grab protection. That was the mistake I made. So please tell me, are you positive?"

A shocked look covered Mark's face as he backed away from Roger. Roger took a step forward, loosening the grip on Mark's wrist to slide down it and entangle their fingers together. Mark glanced down at their hands and then back up at Roger.

He sighed, "No, I'm negative. You weren't, you didn't."

Roger couldn't contain himself any longer. He let go of Marks hand and threw his arms around him. Slowly he could feel Mark respond. Once again tears sprang into Rogers eyes. He couldn't find any other way to express his relief.

"I don't know what I would've done if..."

Mark pushed him away and back into the wall. "Today is not about you Roger Davis. I need to..." He backed away looking lost. "I have to go."

Quickly he turned away and before Roger could say a word was out the door again.

Roger stood against the wall for a minute before letting out a frustrated yell. He wanted Mark so much it hurt. Shaking his head he walked into his room.

Something about Roger Davis that not many people knew was that when he was scribbling in a notebook, it wasn't always songs. He had kept a journal ever since he moved to NYC. Ironically he kept it because he didn't want to forget a single day in this wonderful place.

Pulling out a box filled with notebooks he rummaged through them until he found the one he was looking for. Flipping through it he found the entry he was looking for. The day he met Mark...

_July 28_

_I finally got to talk to that guy I've been writing about for the past few days. His name is Mark Cohen. I don't know what it is about him but, there was a connection. We both felt it I know or else what happened wouldn't have. I never thought that I would have sex with a guy, men just don't attract me. But Mark. He's more than just a groupie. I would love to see him again, but I think I fucked it up just now. See I left right after we were done. I couldn't handle it. The emotion, the passion. I never felt anything like it. Not even with April, whom I thought I loved. But now I'm not so sure. _

_There was something in his eyes; it made me feel like I could do anything. Become famous, get clean, be myself and not what others want or expect me to be. We were together for hours and not once did I feel the urge to shoot up. Not Once. But now I have to. I'll probably never see him again, and if I do he probably won't want to speak to me, so it's best if I just forget. Forget the one good thing I've ever had. _

Roger didn't remember writing this, but he knew the feelings. It was the dame thing he felt when Mark had moved in. It was the same thing he felt when around Mark now.

Walking out of his room and into Mark's, he set the open journal onto Marks bed, knowing he'll find it. With nothing left to do he went back into his room and fell into a fitful sleep.

Hours later he was woke by the sound of the loft door opening and closing. Roger listened intently to the footsteps around the loft, Mark went to the kitchen first, then the bathroom and finally his own room. Roger could hear a mumbled "what the hell?" as Mark found the notebook. Sitting up on the bed Roger began to shift nervously, not sure if Mark would understand what he was trying to tell him. One minute passed, then two, then ten and still no movement from Mark. Just when Roger was about to barge into Mark's room, he heard the footsteps once again. This time they stopped outside his room. Roger stood and stared at his door, willing it to open, willing Mark to come in, willing him to understand without Roger having to make a fool of him. One second passed, then two, then a knock.

Roger jumped. They never knocked on each others doors, normally they just barged in. Taking a deep breath he walked toward the door and stopped. He had no idea what state he would find Mark in. Would he be angry, scared, or piteous? Shaking his head he opened it quickly before loosing his nerve.

Whatever he was expecting it wasn't this. Mark stood holding Roger's notebook, expressionless.

"I can't do this now. I have to know what you mean by leaving this on my bed before I get my hopes up. I need you to explain, completely and honestly."

His voice held no emotion and Roger had to hold back his desire to wrap his arms around him. He had hoped that leaving the notebook would be explaination enough, but obviously that was not the case. Shifting his weight from foot to foot he closed his eyes and began.

"Mark, I know you think I forgot what happened because I meant nothing to me, because you were 'just another groupie'. I left that for you so you would know that wasn't the case. I needed for you to know that I felt something too. That I,"

His voice broke and he turned from the door and Mark to sit on his bed, hoping Mark would follow. He did and sat next to Roger slowly far enough away to keep from unintentionally touching. They sat like that in silence, Roger knew that Mark wanted to ask him what he was going to say, but wouldn't. Roger turned to Mark, looking him straight in his eyes.

"When I saw that film, I was jealous, jealous of my past self because he got to hold you, jealous of you because you got to remember it. I know it's my own damn fault that I don't but it doesn't make it hurt any worse. Then when you said that you might have HIV and I realized that if you did it would be because of me I just. I was so worried, not because it would be a weight on my conscience even though it would, but because I know you. If you were you would've kept it to yourself, so that no one would worry about you. And I care for you too much for you to…"

Roger could see Mark's eyes watering but still he kept his expression impassive. He reached out slowly and put his hands on Mark's shoulders. This time, Mark didn't pull away from him.

"I love you Mark. More than you'll ever know. I think I've loved you for a long time. I don't know what I would do without you and the only reason I haven't said anything before is because of fear that I'd lose you."

Mark closed his eyes and looked down at his lap. Roger could feel him taking deep breaths to control himself. Taking one hand off Mark's shoulder, Roger place a finger under his chin and lifted his head. Mark opened his eyes and looked at Roger with a small smile on his face.

"Really?"

A wide smile crossed Rogers face as he leaned in. "Really."

Mark gave a little laugh before Roger pressed his lips against Marks.


End file.
